


Drought and Famine

by deerna



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Bad Jokes, Blow Jobs, Body Horror, Bottom Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Chronic Pain, Gabriel jokes about being dead/a corpse, M/M, Post-Recall, Top Jesse McCree
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-25 17:02:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14981618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deerna/pseuds/deerna
Summary: Jesse leans in to kiss him, devour him, drink him in. He moves too quickly and his hat gets knocked askew, and there are too clothes wrapped around them both, but it doesn’t matter. He pours himself into that kiss, before Gabriel can say anything to ruin it. He needs to pretend that they’re not gonna get dressed again in a hour; he needs to pretend that Gabriel not telling him whatever his deal is with Talon doesn’t unnerve him like anything ever unnerved him before; he needs to pretend that this whole mess isn’t worse than Rialto. He needs to feel him alive under his hands and his mouth- never mind the fact that they don’t even know if whatever is happening to Gabriel’s body qualifies as ‘keeping him alive’.





	Drought and Famine

**Author's Note:**

> This story was formerly threaded on my NSFW twitter, so if you're following me there and this story sounds familiar it's because it is.
> 
> Check the notes at the end for an explanation of the tags.

It’s dark and cold outside, when Jesse finally steps out of the pub for a smoke. He bites a piece off his cigarillo before re-lighting it, disappointment heavy in his guts, bitterness spreading on his tongue and in his heart. It’s late, but the street is still busy.

He didn’t show.

Jesse knows that it's unfair of him. He knows it’s not like he can just step away from whatever he’s doing just to meet him. But Jesse had always been fond of sweets- and their last conversation had been full of them sugary promises. Had it been all lies? Just words? Or was Jesse the one who had heard whatever he’d wanted to hear? He is now left wondering if he had imagined half or all of it. Maybe it had been a reuse, to string him along until he got desperate enough to join him, on the same side of justice as he was...

As Jesse muses, the cold stops. A puff of smoke escapes his smile.

“I thought you’d stood me up,” he tells to the mist, leaning in the darkness behind him, knowing it is going to catch him.

“I had to take the long way out.” Gabriel’s voice sounds ruined and raspy from behind his mask; he sounds tired, weary.

“Rats?”

A low chuckle. “No,” he says in a tone that sounds like it’s supposed to explain everything.

Ah. It’s one of those nights. “We can get a drink and talk, if-”

“No,” Gabriel repeats, and his hands comes up to squeeze Jesse’s flank under the serape, the tips of his clawed gloves pressing gently in his gut. Reassuringly; he’s fine. “I’m fine. Did you get a room around here?”

Jesse chews on the cigarillo. “Sure. Follow me?”

He rented a room just down the street. The mist darkens his steps every time he walks into a streetlight’s shadow, slow and sluggish. He can almost hear Gabriel’s breathing between the noises of the passing cars.

The man at the desk doesn’t even look up when Jesse comes in, shrouded in smoke too dense to be coming just from his cigar. Jesse walks the narrow corridors until they reach his room, only the sound of his boots jingling muffled against the shitty carpet to keep them company. A chuckle bubbles in his throat when he sees Gabriel sliding beneath the door, as Jesse struggles with the old key card, magnet gone weak and finicky with time.

The door unlocks, and it swings open by itself, Gabriel standing tall and solid on the other side. “You’re late.”

“You’re a clown, you know that?” Jesse scolds him, but it’s playful. “Let me see how bad it is, before I decide to kiss you.”

Gabriel is still wearing his mask. He gasps in mock outrage. “Are you telling me that you’re not gonna kiss me if I’m not pretty enough for you?”

“I’m not goin’ to kiss you if you have no mouth to kiss, you ridiculous man.”

Gabriel reaches out for him and Jesse lets himself being pulled close before touching Reaper’s mask, unhooking it from the hood, unconsciously holding his breath. He doesn’t want to know what Gabriel’s reaction will be, the time it does happen; but tonight isn’t the night. There’s some minimal discoloration under his left eye, and the cheek beneath it looks a bit chewed out, like those corpses you sometimes find in the desert where coyotes still survive in the wild, but Jesse had seen worse. He’s got both eyes, at least. And his mouth.

Jesse leans in to kiss him, devour him, drink him in. He moves too quickly and his hat gets knocked askew, and there are too clothes wrapped around them both, but it doesn’t matter. He pours himself into that kiss, before Gabriel can say anything to ruin it. He needs to pretend that they’re not gonna get dressed again in a hour; he needs to pretend that Gabriel not telling him whatever his deal is with Talon doesn’t unnerve him like anything ever unnerved him before; he needs to pretend that this whole mess isn’t worse than Rialto. He needs to feel him alive under his hands and his mouth- never mind the fact that they don’t even know if whatever is happening to Gabriel’s body qualifies as ‘keeping him alive’.

Gabriel clutches at him as savagely, a low keen reverberating in both their mouths, trying to keep his claws from cutting him up. He’s the one pushing them apart, panting and worked up. Jesse absently notices that his cheek looks worse than before. “Get undressed, get on the bed, we don’t have time for this,” he murmurs, and it sounds like something is ripping him apart from the inside.

Jesse wants to ask, but he doesn’t. He just kicks his boots and jeans off, almost hangs himself with his serape and accidentally crushes a delicate button between his metal thumb and forefinger in his haste to unbutton his shirt. When he turns around, Gabriel is still dressed, an arm curled around his stomach, the other clutching at the back of his hood.

“Gabriel?”

“I’m _fine_ ,” he growled. “I just need a minute.”

Jesse wants to ask, but he doesn’t. The only time he did, Gabriel had closed off, shattered into a million pieces and joined the fog outside of their window.

“Can I-”

Gabriel growls again and sits down, heavily. “Get on the bed,” he says again, so Jesse does. He waits, cross legged and naked, listening to Gabriel’s frustrated whines and grunts, erection flagging in the cool air, a knot of worry in his throat. He watches him in the corner of his eye as he struggles with his gloves, with his boots, with his pants; time passes, and Gabriel’s ragged breathing is the only thing Jesse can hear, the tension running up his back in a line of pain the only thing he can see.

Jesse wants to ask if he needs help, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t ask if he’s in pain. The only time he did, Gabriel had closed off, joined the mist outside their window, shattered in a thousands pieces.

Not for the first time, Jesse wonders why Gabriel has himself go through this every time.

“Gabe,” he rasps. “Keep the coat.”

“I’m fi-”

“Keep the coat. Come here and fuck me, Gabe. We ain’t got time for this,” Jesse murmurs, laying back on the cheap sheets, staring at a crack in the ceiling, his hand wrapping around his dick to try and rub a bit of life back into it.

A rustle, and Gabriel climbs on the bed, dragging himself on his knees until he’s straddling Jesse’s hips. His face looks considerably worse, but what makes Jesse’s heart clench is the pallor of his skin. His hands feel cold and clammy when he finally put them on his.

Jesse thought that the coat would’ve looked weird in that setting; it’s the most ‘Reaper’ thing about Gabriel, even more than the mask, more than the clawed gloves; but the way it frames his groin, his hips and his thighs is actually making his mouth water and his dick twitch. He slides his hands up Gabriel’s legs, up his hard stomach, racking up the thin black undershirt, undoing straps and belts, discarding body armour as he goes, until he can squeeze his chest, hold his tight waist in both hands.

“Hey, stranger,” Jesse drawls.

Gabriel grins at his thick, fake accent, a joke between them as old as their acquaintance. “Fancy seeing you here,” he replies, and then winces. “Jesse, I’m-”

“Are you going to fuck me, or not?” Jesse asks, apology accepted before Gabriel can formulate it, before Jesse can guess if Gabriel is feeling sorry for him, for himself, or for both.

With a short, unmirthful laugh, Gabriel reaches down between his legs, behind his taint; his fingers come away wet. Jesse’s mouth feels dry. “I came prepared, actually. I wanted you to screw me into the mattress, but as it is...” He pulls his hood back, hair tumbling down his chest in a tangled mess, greasy and too long, and twists it away until the rot around his shoulder and the nape of his neck starts to show. “It’s not going to be sexy pain if we do that, so.” He smiles. “I’ll let you say it.”

Despite the horror and the worry, Jesse couldn’t help but burst into laughter. “Are you goin’ to _save a horse and ride a cowboy_ , old man?” he howled, eyes watering. “Who are you and what have you done with Gabriel Reyes?”

“I killed him and I’m wearing his corpse like a suit.”

Jesse laughs again, God help him. “Don’t joke about that.”

“You walked right into that one. Also it’s my corpse-suit, I can joke about it as much as I want.” Gabriel strokes himself lazily as he talks, eyeing the clock on the bedside table. “We really don’t have time for this.”

Jesse sits up a little and kisses his jaw, closing a hand over the one working his dick and sliding the other behind him, fingertips mapping the familiar scars at the small of his back, slipping down his cheeks and over his slick hole. “Are you sure you prepped enough?” He pushes a finger in and Gabriel clenches around him, but the movement is easy and smooth, gliding with well applied lube, Gabriel’s body loose and pliant.

“I had to be sure I could take it,” Gabriel says, mutters. “You’ll have to go slow.”

“You’ll need to tell me if you’re in pain,” Jesse counters, and continue when Gabriel looks at him, mouth pressed in a thin line. “I’m serious, Gabe. I’m not hurting you- unless you’re explicitly askin’ for it, that is.”

Jesse almost expects him to challenge him, to ask for the pain, then. But he’s holding Gabriel’s body in his arms, and he can feel how close he is to fall apart, barely holding himself together for that moment of intimacy. He keeps him close as he slides backward on his ass, until his back hits the headboard of the bed; he peppers Gabriel’s chin and neck with kisses, keeps his strokes and thrusts slow and sweet, trying to relax him.

A gasp escapes Gabriel’s throat when Jesse curls a finger deep into him, and he twitches, his whole body canting forward, head thrown back, hands dropping on Jesse’s chest.

“Good?” Jesse asks. “Better?”

“Keep going. Just- put it in.”

It’s no easy maneuver, but Jesse manages to pull him even closer, to rub the head of his dick against Gabriel’s slick hole and to slowly press in. They’re still for a long moment, Jesse just enjoying the heavy warmth of Gabriel’s body in his lap, pressing lazy kisses on his stomach, on his chest. He feels him tremble as he adjusts. The angle isn’t the best; Jesse cannot move easily like that, but that’s the point- he’s going to leave it to Gabriel.

Jesse squeezes his thigh, working his dick with his other hand, as Gabriel kneels up, unsheathing him almost all the way before sitting back down in his lap. It’s slow. It’s more hip-rolling movements than anything else, and it’s _slow_ , sweet torture on Jesse’s grip on sanity, but it’s fine. Gabriel is gripping the back of his shoulders, holding on for dear life, as if he doesn’t know where he’s gonna end up if he lets go.

He’s close.

The tails of Reaper’s coat are too warm on Jesse’s legs- he cannot tell if the feverish sickness he feels is the heat from them or from the orgasm crawling up his groin, building slow like the tide in the full moon.

Gabriel’s movements become choppy and stuttering- but he’s holding himself back.

“You gettin’ shy on me, Gabriel?” Jesse jokes. “What’s the matter?”

“Last time I checked, I’m not supposed to be the only one getting something out of this. Are you even enjoying this at all?”

Is he enjoying it? It didn’t even occur to Jesse, as wrapped as he is in Gabriel's body and his shivering pleasure, as focused as he is on keeping him whole. He smears a bead of precum with his thumb down Gabriel’s dick, and he grins at the way Gabriel jumps because of it. “I am enjoyin’ myself just fine.” He rolls Gabriel’s undershirt out of the way, up to his collarbones, so he can lick at a dark nipple and make him growl, hips rolling against Jesse’s almost by reflex.

“Stop that, I’ll-”

“Come, Gabriel. You’ll make it up for me. Let it go.”

Gabriel’s body curls in on itself, and they’re suddenly eye to eye. “Would it kill you to be selfish for once?” he growls against his mouth before devouring it in a kiss, working himself on Jesse’s cock, suddenly frantic.

“This _is_ me being selfish,” Jesse murmurs, and Gabriel spills all over his fingers and wrist. Gabriel’s hands feels like brands on his shoulders, tight and scalding; he’s gonna have some interesting bruises in the morning. He wipes on the sheets next to his hip and wraps both his arms behind the small of Gabriel’s back until the man whines with oversensitivity and unmistakable pain. Jesse rolls them over on their sides, before cautiously lifting the coat off the skin- he doesn’t get to take a peek, because Gabriel is already slapping his hand away.

“Stop that shit, Jesse.”

Jesse doesn’t know why he’s so obsessed with Gabriel’s rot. It’s not a real wound; there’s nothing to bandage. Jesse had touched it before; it had been on accident, but it had happened nonetheless, so Jesse knew. It doesn’t feel like rotten flesh at all; it feels dry and parched, with a chalky texture, cracked like thirsty soil. Deader than any flesh had any right to be.

“I was jus’ tryin’ to get that thing off you. My knees were under there, and they’re pretty toasty. You’re going’ to cook yourself to death in that thing.”

“Good thing I’m already dead. I’m fine.” Gabriel rolled over and crawled back towards Jesse, putting his hands on his naked thigh, just next his still flushed erection. His cheek had a hole in it now, the white of bone just showing through the crumbling flesh. “Will you let me suck you off? It bothers me to know that you didn’t finish yet.”

Jesse watches him lick his lips. Gabriel just stares back, curled over him like a big, dark cat ready to plunge on his meal. Heat pools in Jesse’s belly. “I thought you were never goin’ to ask.”

Gabriel snorts and goes down on him, tight heat around the head and clever fingers squeezing around the base, fondling his balls, stroking his perineum. His long hair keeps falling in his face, and Jesse automatically grabs at it, pulling it back.

His right ear is gone.

Jesse closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, focuses on the feeling of Gabriel’s mouth on him, on the slight resistance of the greasy strands in his fist, on the soft moans coming from Gabriel’s throat- he always liked sucking dick, it was never about returning favors.

_Would it kill you to be selfish, for once?_

The orgasm catches him off guard, a sudden wave of pleasure and confusion dragged from somewhere behind his lungs, a gasp cutting off his thoughts. He opens his eyes, and Gabriel’s face is still as rotten and flushed as before, a hint of semen staining his chin where it had dribbled out of his mouth. He looks relaxed and happy; Jesse had missed that. It’s enough to make him smile, to make him relax in turn.

“I used to be better at thins,” Gabriel rasps, voice rough. “But you still taste as good as I remember.”

“Don’t get sappy on me, boss.”

“I’m trying to apologize. I promised you we weren’t going to be in a rush this time, but-”

“Gabriel,” Jesse interrupts him. He cannot stand the guilt in his voice. Not about this. Their relationship was never easy, but it was the easiest thing among the rest. Jesse cannot bear how complicate it’s getting.

"I'm not five years old, I can admit when I am fucking up-"

Jesse laughs at him. "You're twelve. Shut up." He pulls Gabriel against his chest, bites his mouth with a kiss, tasting himself on his lips.

They lay down, pressed close, ignoring the clock and the sky getting lighter. 

"When I'm done with- with this. We'll get away from everyone. From everything," Jesse hears Gabriel mumble against his collarbone. He knows he's talking to himself. 

He presses a kiss against his hair. "You need a shower." 

"We'll sleep in." Gabriel swallows, thickly. "We'll _sleep_."

Jesse tightens his grip on Gabriel. "I'll sing for you," he whispers. "Take a shower before you go." 

He won't. He never does. But Jesse tries every time, because he doesn't want him to go. Not so soon. But the sky is getting lighter.

Jesse tries not to listen to the rustling and the muffled curses while Gabriel gets dressed again. He sits on the edge of the bed, a thin tendril of regret dripping down his stomach, ice cold and slimy. 

"I'll make it up to you," Gabriel whispers against his mouth one last time, before joining the mist outside their window. Jesse lights himself a new cigarillo and watches the mist melt in the rising sun. 

**Author's Note:**

> Gabriel's body is basically rotting and he's missing pieces. It's not actually rot- it's more like crumbling clay.
> 
> Find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/somewhatclear/) and [tumblr](https://somewhatclear.tumblr.com).


End file.
